The Way That You Looked At Me Scared Me
The way that you looked at me scared me.
I couldn’t trust myself to look at you the way you looked at me.
I couldn’t trust myself to trust someone.
I looked away.
I felt your gaze graze my cheek.
I couldn’t trust myself to look at you the way you looked at me.
I couldn’t trust myself to trust someone.
The less of me that I let someone see the more attractive I can be.
Being a ghost of a person is attractive.
Being a glimpse of a person is attractive.
Being a snapshot of a concept of a person is attractive.
(Right?)
The way that you looked at me scared me.
I kept thinking that I must not be who you think I am.
I kept thinking that if you knew me you wouldn’t look at me like that.
I kept thinking that you’d only want me as long as I stayed across the room.
Recently I’ve been thinking about you more.
I’ve been wondering if you’d still look at me like that if you saw me again.
Maybe you saw something in me that I don’t see in myself.
Maybe there’s a chance you wanted to know me.
This is a thrilling thought.
This is a wonderful thought.
This is a terrifying thought.
The way that you looked at me scared me.
I felt like I didn’t deserve it.
I kept thinking you must have me mixed up with someone else.
I kept thinking that if you knew me you wouldn’t look at me like that.
The way that you looked at me scared me.
I couldn’t trust myself to look at you the way you looked at me.
I couldn’t trust myself to trust someone.
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